in the distance
by kaleksandrah
Summary: unfinished translation of my fanfiction written in Polish. it's 1387. Jadwiga - as a king of Poland - is leading Polish army to Red Ruthenia, wanting the land back from Hungary. Lithuanian army is accompanying them as Union of Krewo was already concluded.


IN THE DISTANCE

chapter one.

Feliks was silent.

He wasn't able to find the proper words and that didn't happen to him very often. He felt ashamed, very ashamed, and feeling Duke Vytautas's indulgent gaze on his back didn't help, but only made things much worse. Poland couldn't stand the presence of the Lithuanian - what did he come here with that Tolys for? - and he would have shifted the whole blame for the defeat at Halych onto Vytautas with pleasure. It had been Vytautas who had come later to the battlefield and ordered a retreat, during which the Polish cavalry had been painfully bitten by the Hungarians. If Vytautas hadn't interrupted, they would have captured the town for sure...!

Jadwiga clearly had a different opinion.

"We aren't here to fight, but to take my land back." Her reprimanding voice hurt more than feeling of defeat's injustice, more than his gashed cheek.

"I can't see any difference," muttered Feliks, but fortunately Jadwiga didn't hear him.

"Why did you leave the camp without an order?" she continued. Feliks wanted the earth to swallow him up; the gaze of Vytautas was burning him, and the presence of Tolys was irritating.

"You exposed my knights to unnecessary death, don't you understand that?"

She wasn't shouting at him, which was the worst thing she could do. Feliks thought that she restrained herself from that only because Vytautas and Tolys were also present. With her calm and cold voice she now seemed to be very distant; King Jadwiga on the high throne. In that moment, she wasn't the person Feliks knew. For the last three years, he had spent every free minute with her. For the last three years, they pilfered sweets from the kitchen together- and he'd even worn her dresses for fun. And now she was so angry with him, as she had never been before. She told him point blank, that he had done something wrong...! Didn't she understand his motives...? That he only  
>wanted to– ?<p>

Vytautas pushed him softly in the back.

"It's obligatory to answer the king's questions, _Lenkija_."

Jadwiga frowned, obviously displeased with Vytautas' reprimand. Poland noticed the expression and for the moment he breathed a sigh of relief; but then that feeling left him as he remembered Halych and Hungarians, much taller than he was. Suddenly his wounded hand, quickly and carelessly dressed, stung sharply.

"My dearest duke, it is true that Feliks' behaviour was unacceptable. But it does not justify your arrogance."

They glared at each other; forty-year-old man and thirteen-year-old girl, which would look quite funny, if it hadn't been for the titles they held. Feliks was still silent, his hand stinging and he knew he couldn't stand it anymore: the king who had tried to make him admit he'd made a mistake.

"Forgive me, Milady." Vytautas bent his head slightly. "In that case, will you at least let me take up the problem of Halych?"

"Certainly. It will be the best thing you can do."

The farewell was cold and formal, ad they exchanged stiff bows and not a single word. Vytautas left quickly and atmosphere immediately became less tense.

Jadwiga sighed and sat down on a chest. "Feli, say something. Please." She called him by usual nickname, but it was too much for Feliks, it only made him want to run, run as far away, as he could.

"I-I'm sorry" he muttered, but didn't look at Jadwiga, he gazed at the floor and the hand which stung him so badly, as if it was reminding him about the blame, that he didn't want to admit to. "I'm sorry, Ja–" He bit his tongue, remembering the scornful Vytautas' "Lenkija". He swallowed back the first tears of bitterness and finished the sentence. "Your Majesty."

He couldn't control his movements. He bowed low – something which he rarely did – glanced at Jadwiga's worried face and left the king's tent, running. The entrance flaps fluttered in his rush.

He was running through the wet grass, instinctively avoiding the lights of the bonfires. His knights were sitting there, his, not Jadwiga's; he encouraged them to fight and sang Bogurodzica with them.

And that day a few of them died. It was true, it was his fault, but why had Lithuanians interfered? Maybe he would have won if they hadn't come and the deaths of his knights wouldn't have turned out to be unnecessary. But everything had gone wrong, leaving him only shame and disgrace. So he was running, because something in his mind was screaming and breaking out, breaking free.

He left the camp, stopping at the banks of the Dniester. His hand was stinging horribly, but he ignored the pain.

He was the country, the Kingdom of Poland, and such a little thing wouldn't kill him.

A tactful cough came from the corner of the tent.

Jadwiga jumped where she was sitting on the chest. She was sure that Feliks' sudden departure had left her alone, so with surprise she identified the source of sound.

"Tolys...!" she exclaimed. "I thought you went out with duke Vytautas!"

Lithuania was confused and started to apologize in floundering Polish. Jadwiga interrupted him, speaking much more fluently. She tried to convince him that absolutely nothing wrong had happened and that he could stay if he wanted to, and that it would really be pleasant for her. It ended up with Tolys' decision to stay in the tent, until the king won't be bored by his companion.

"Sit down, please." Jadwiga pointed at a tabouret, which was the only one furniture in the tent, except the chest and some pelts and bedding materials.

Tolys bowed and sat down uncertainly.

"I hope you're not exhausted by the gallop to Halych and back?"

She was talking about the incident with a sour and mocking expression, as if she didn't care about it and was still angry at Feliks. In fact a feeling of uneasiness came over her, when Poland left; she would have to talk with him and explain some things...

"I'm not, Milady, I'm used to fast and long journeys."

He was talking quietly and calmly, carefully choosing his Polish words and always calling her "Milady" or "Your Majesty". Jadwiga liked Tolys, despite of his shyness and lack of these manners, which were considered as obligatory at European courts. And in comparison to the noisy and  
>light-hearted Feliks, he surely had a better, more reliable character. Tolys was much more reasonable and in his own way: cute. Only one thing was worrying Jadwiga: Feliks' lasting antipathy towards Tolys. While the king had become reconciled to her fate and accepted Jogaila as her husband, Feliks wasn't showing any will to cooperate with Lithuanians. Additionally, he decided not to learn their language, so that it was Tolys who had to learn Polish in order to communicate with him. But Feliks still ignored him, although Jadwiga reprimanded him very often.<p>

"Do you journey a lot, Tolys?" the king asked with interest.

"I fight a lot, Milady."

Jadwiga was about to think that her question was tactless, but then she noticed the faint smile on Tolys' face. She breathed a sigh of relief. Talking to Lithuania could be dangerous and she feared to hurt him with a careless word.

"It's not good, that we can't start any conversation without mentioning of wars" sighed Jadwiga.

"I wouldn't fight if I didn't have to." It sounded like an attempt to excuse himself for drawing a sword too often, which somehow appealed to Jadwiga, because she was already tired of the enthusiastic Feliks' stories about wars a few hundred years in the past. "But with such neighbours..."

Jadwiga nodded her understanding. It had bagun to worry her too, that country of the Teutonic Order, rising in power at the northern border of Poland. She had heard a lot about the arrogant and

opinionated albino and his Grand Master from Besztrid*, a lot of things that weren't pleasant at all. She knew she would have to square off against that power sooner or later, especially since the Teutonics had invaded Poland before, not to mention Lithuania. That's right, Tolys had to fight to defend his homeland and it was a righteous fight, but Christian Europe sided with the Order, even now, when Lithuania officially stopped being a pagan country.

Tolys clearly wanted not to talk about his red-eyed neighbour and quickly changed the subject. But something still seemed to make him feel uncomfortable. Jadwiga guessed it by his worried eyes, nervously clenched hands and too-carefully chosen words. And it couldn't be changed; the king had seen Tolys talking to Feliks many times, and he had been direct and relaxed then, even though Poland had treated him as an obstacle, that had to be removed. Jadwiga knew where the problem lay; she was mortal, she was really human, while all of them – Feliks, Tolys, Besztrid and the Teutonic albino – were beings born from tribal bonds and attachment to the land. She could talk, laugh and fight with them, but wasn't able to fully understand them.

"Could I ask a favour, Your Majesty?" asked Tolys after a long silence and almost immediately turned red, apparently horrified by his own courage.

"Of course, you can, Tolys, but I don't know if I'll be able to grant it."

Lithuania swallowed nervously.

"Could I–" he began, whispering and dropping his eyes. "Could I stay by Your Majesty's side instead of going to Halych?"

Jadwiga didn't answer at once. She was watching Tolys with astonishment, his red cheeks and nervously clenched hands, the whole tempest of emotions, raging inside him. She hesitated for a moment; actually she had no right to influence Lithuania in any way nor to give him any orders, but if he asked her... that meant–

"If you have a really important reason, I will grant your favour. No, no" Jadwiga added quickly, as Tolys became more unsure. "You don't have to tell me why. Think it over in your soul."

She moved back, surprised, when Tolys wrapped his arms around her knees.

"Thank you" he was whispering. "Thank you."

With difficulty, Jadwiga forced him to stand up. She smiled gently, noticing great thankfulness in his eyes. Then she stood, in this way giving Tolys to understand that it was high time for him to leave the tent.

"I will tell duke Vytautas about my decision, so don't worry" she said.

Tolys bowed low. "Thank you, Your Majesty" He bowed again – poor Tolys caught in the etiquette trap, not knowing yet, how to get out of it – and headed towards the exit.

"Ah, Tolys." Jadwiga's voice stopped him. "Could I have a favour, too?"

Lithuania turned back.

"Ask whatever you want, Milady."

"Find Feliks, please."

She really was worried about Poland. With such a character, he could get into trouble quite easily. After all, the Lithuanians didn't know him and he didn't like them. That was why he had to be found as fast as possible, before he got hurt or hurt someone else.

Tolys bowed once again, this time absolutely aware of doing it.

"Naturally, _Jadvyg_."

Of course, Tolys didn't manage to find Feliks in the camp, even though he combed its length and breadth, just in case. Tolys avoided Lithuanians units on purpose; he didn't want to meet Vytautas by chance, if the duke hadn't talked with Jadwiga yet. In the end, he came to the river, as it seemed to be the only place where he could find Poland.

It turned out to be a great idea, because Feliks was found without any special effort: it was so dark, that Tolys just stumbled over him.

True, Lithuania's inattention caused some commotion, few kicks and random strikes, but when Poland figured out who the assailant was, he calmed down and only said with an offended voice two words:

"Go away."

But Tolys wasn't put off, Tolys had gotten used to this open antipathy and didn't move from the ground which he had been pinned to before. Not being able to obtain the demanded reaction, Feliks snarled and turned away. Tolys could see only his fair hair against the dark night sky.

"Don't think I'm going to talk with you."

Tolys sat up on the grass. "Jadwiga is worried about you."

Feliks moved slightly. "She... is worried?"

Poland's voice was trembling; Tolys felt quite uncomfortable, because he wasn't used to see Feliks in such situation – even if he could see only his back – but he confirmed his previous statement quietly.

For a while, silence came over them. Suddenly Feliks turned to Tolys, his bright eyes shone in the weak moonlight.

"But how can I look at her now...? After that defeat... she has to be very, very angry at me...!"

He hid his face in his hands, which suited Tolys, because at least he didn't have to look into those eyes, filled with despair. He sighed heavily.

"You're a fool, Feliks." he said. "Jadwiga already forgave you for sure and she will demand from you only one thing: not to make such stupid mistakes in the future. After all, there are many different ways to impress somebody."

It took a while for Feliks to take his hands away from his face. His eyes were already dry, his expression determined as always, there was not a single remnant of his past moment of weakness.

"I have no damn idea, what you are talking about."

Tolys sighed internally, because he knew that Feliks knew. And that it would end with a disaster, one way or another. Tolys knew, because he had made such a mistake before.

"It's getting cold." he said companionably. "Do you want to stay here?"

Feliks was of two minds for a while, but he stood up and went after Tolys, as the prospects for warmth at the bonfire won out. However, he kept a few steps distance, so no one would think that he was walking together with Lithuania. But it didn't hurt Tolys anymore, as it had a few months ago. Now he was even somewhat amused. _Lenkija_ acted like a child, even though he was the older one.

"Feliks, can I ask you something?" asked Tolys, when they were almost in the camp. The only answer he received was some mumbling, but he considered it as confirmation. "Why did you call the Hungarians outside Halych instead of laying siege to a town?"

For a moment the answer wasn't forthcoming, but then Feliks appeared on the Tolys' left side and laughed. His eyes shone.

"You must be joking! Sieges are totally boring and dull and in open battles at least something happens!"

Tolys shook his head. A clever reply was on the tip of his tongue, that of course something happens - something like being stabbed repeatedly, for example!- but he said nothing.

In this way they managed to return to the camp without any quarrels.

* If you didn't guess it yet, Beszteréd (Besztrid) is the name of Hungary. I made it up, because in the time of this story she thought she is a boy and there's no official name for this case.


End file.
